Late Night Comfort
by becsti
Summary: Larry comes to Edgeworth about his latest relationship disaster. Edgeworth provides comfort in a most unconventional manner. SLASH.


After a long week of investigating and dealing with Gumshoe's catastrophic blunders, Miles Edgeworth deserved a break. The case that he'd so meticulously put together had almost been thrown out of court because of the bumbling detective. Luckily, he'd been able to salvage the case by finding critical evidence only an hour before court, which led to a very Phoenix Wright-esque turnabout.

God he needed a drink.

Because of his upbringing in the von Karma household, Edgeworth wasn't normally one to indulge his vices. But when he occasionally did, he didn't hold back.

After putting on a Steel Samurai rerun, he opened a bottle of Argentine Malbec he'd received upon his return to the Japifornia Prosecutor's Department. When the third episode ended he was surprised to find the bottle empty. His senses were comfortably muted and his vision was beginning to haze on the edges but there were two more episodes of the Steel Samurai to watch and he was still thirsty.

He found a half empty bottle of brandy at the back of his cupboard, poured himself a glass and walked back to the living room.

Forty minutes and two glasses of brandy later there was a frantic knocking at his door. Edgeworth groaned as he slowly, and with much effort, pushed himself up off the couch.

_Who could that be at this hour?_ It couldn't be Wright – he was down in Kurain with that assistant of his. Edgeworth cautiously approached the door and peeked through the peephole.

_What the-?_

He swung open the door.

"Larry. What on earth are you doing here?" It was an unnecessary question; Edgeworth could tell just by looking at him.

"It's over!" Larry wailed. "My life, everything, it's all over!"

"Larry, please-"

"I can't live in a world without her, Edgey. I can't!"

"For goodness sake, will you be quiet? You're making a scene." Edgeworth highly doubted his neighbours would appreciate such a ruckus at midnight.

Larry whimpered as Edgeworth pulled him inside to avoid further embarrassment.

"Sit," he commanded, pushing the snivelling man towards his couch. Larry dropped down without any resistance.

Miles paced back and forth for a moment, thinking of what to say next. One wrong word and Larry would descend into hysterics.

"I gather another one of your lady friends abandoned you."

"Jacinta wasn't a _friend_ – she was the love of my life!"

"Hm, I'm sure she was," Edgeworth muttered.

"I was working _two jobs_ to help her through modelling school and when I get home from work tonight she was… she was… with another…" Larry's voice cracked and he began wailing again.

Edgeworth winced in pain at the sound of Larry's breakdown. He rubbed his temple at a loss of what to do. _I can't fathom how Wright does it…_

Edgeworth spotted the near-empty bottle of brandy sitting on the coffee table and poured the rest of it into his empty glass.

"Here. Drink." He thrust the glass in front of Larry's face. The Butz quickly accepted.

"No, don't-!" Edgeworth exclaimed but it was too late: Larry had sculled the whole thing.

"Thanks, dude," Larry said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He sniffed deeply, placing the glass back on the table oblivious to the coaster lying one foot to the left.

Edgeworth snatched up the glass before it had time to do any damage.

"Jacinta was the one, Edgey, I swear. I know I say that about a lot of beautiful women but this time I mean it!"

Edgeworth glared at his childhood friend. "I need another drink," he announced and strode into the kitchen.

**/**

Larry explained the whole situation in uncomfortably graphic detail over a bottle of scotch. (A sober Miles Edgeworth would have been concerned about the amount of alcohol he had unknowingly squirreled away.) The prosecutor's poor social skills seemed only to be exacerbating Larry's condition as the Butz refused to calm down.

By this time, a sober Miles Edgeworth would have kicked the man out to fend for himself; but, by this time, Miles Edgeworth was very, very drunk.

A sober Miles Edgeworth would also have never dropped to his knees in front of his friend, for lack of a better idea, to use his mouth as comfort in a less than conventional way.

And a sober Larry Butz never would have let him.

But when Edgeworth slowly unzipped Larry's fly there was no protest. He dipped his hand into Larry's underwear and gently pulled out his cock. Larry gasped in surprise having been too drunk to pay attention to what Edgeworth had been doing. Miles tightened his grip and gradually worked his hand from base to tip. Larry groaned loudly, thumping his head against the back of the couch. In his inebriated state, it took some time for him to grow hard, but Edgeworth was unexpectedly patient.

Butz stopped wailing for the first time since his arrival, panting softly as Edgeworth moved his hand up and down, slightly twisting each time he changed directions. When Larry's panting quickened, Edgeworth leant in and flicked his tongue at the tip, eliciting a moan from the other man. Smirking, he repeated the action then twirled his tongue around the head.

"M-more…"

Moving closer, he licked a trail down to the base and back up again, catching precum leaking from the slit. Larry shifted restlessly on the couch.

"Enough with the teasing already," he whimpered, punctuating his urgency with the jerk of his hips.

With a particularly lascivious grin, Miles took the head in his mouth slowly… slowly rocking his head back and forth, taking him further each time.

"_Shit_," Larry gasped as Edgeworth's lips reached the base of his cock. He ran his tongue along the vein underneath before withdrawing back to the tip.

Larry made a noise of frustration. "Don't stop," he panted, reaching out and tangling his hand in Edgeworth's hair. Edgeworth let Larry guide him down again before taking control. He built up a steady rhythm and Larry began arching up into his mouth. Miles chuckled, the vibration earning him a whimper. Using his right hand to reach where his mouth could not, he increased the tempo. Larry's pants turned to moans and cusses, getting louder as he approached orgasm. He tightened his grip of Edgeworth's hair, encouraging the prosecutor to go faster and deeper. The jerk of his hips became more erratic as he pushed himself to the back of Edgeworth's throat with every thrust.

"_Oh God!"_ Larry cried as he came. Edgeworth was prepared and accepted it with half-lidded eyes and the hint of a smirk. Larry sank back into the couch with a deep sigh.

Miles withdrew and rested his head on Larry's knee, dizzy from the alcohol and lack of oxygen. Larry appeared to have gone boneless before him, eyes closed, breathing heavy. By the time Edgeworth's head had stopped swimming, Larry seemed to have passed out.

Calamity from the TV snapped him out of his post-blow job haze and he turned to see a climactic battle between the Steel Samurai and the Evil Magistrate. Something about the scene reached the rational, sober part of his brain and his eyes widened in horror as he realised just what he'd done. He turned back to the couch. This wasn't some beautiful stranger he could ditch the next morning; it was Larry, his _childhood friend_ and known lady's man.

_Fuck._

He slumped back against the coffee table sincerely hoping they'd both be too drunk to remember this in the morning.


End file.
